


The Promised Storm

by Huffleporg



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Curse, Arranged Swanfire Engagement, CS endgame, Deals with the Dark One, F/M, Lieutenant Duckling, Lieutenant Killian Jones/Princess Emma Swan, Princess Emma Swan, Timeline Warp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 02:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11393709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huffleporg/pseuds/Huffleporg
Summary: Faced with a terrible threat from the Evil Queen, Princess Emma must make a deal with the Dark One that comes at a price she soon realizes she cannot pay. With the help of a lieutenant in Their Majesty's Royal Navy, Emma searches for a way to save the realm and her happy ending.





	The Promised Storm

_Image by bewitching. at TDA._

 

As they descended further down into the tunnels, the air took on a noticeable chill. Emma wrapped her summer shawl around herself more tightly. She hadn't thought when she had been up in the sweltering heat of midday an hour ago that she would feel this cold so shortly. Just as she began to shiver, Emma felt a weight on her shoulders as the warmth of her father's cloak envelope her.

"Here," he said.

Emma looked up to give her father a thankful smile, one her father barely managed to return before glancing ahead, peering beyond the reach of the guard’s torches. She knew that neither of her parents had wanted her to come today, but they hadn’t had any choice but to include the future queen in on the troubling matters that had led to this bitter decision. They had wanted to spare her from all of this, they always had.

Emma only needed one hand to count the number of times she had been in the tunnels underneath the castle. The first time she had been seven, and Pinocchio had told her there was a monster that lived down below. Though she had known the teenager was prone to telling lies, he had seemed so convincing that she had had to go and see for herself. Her parents had fought monsters and won, and even at that young an age, Emma had been determined to be a hero like them. But, after what had felt like at the time hours of looking and failing to find any signs of a monster, Emma had given up, concluding that once again Pinocchio had to be lying. She now knew that she had barely gone a tenth of the way down into the depths, nor could she have been gone for more than half an hour.

The second and last time she had ventured down below the castle, she and Alex had been almost eleven, and exploring the castle above ground had become boring. Two princesses, however, could not vanish for long without their absence being noticed. By the time they had been found, Emma's mother had worked herself up into such a state that Emma had thought her mother to be livid rather than afraid. That incident caused the first serious punishment Emma had ever received.

Now, Emma understood why her parents had been so upset to learn where she and her friend had been found exploring. She no longer thought no dessert for a month, no balls for a year, and extra lessons in the history of Misthaven were excessive punishments for simply wandering around the underground terrain. She wished that her parents had told her why all those years ago, but perhaps they had thought the explanation would only make her more likely to venture down to see what they had imprisoned there.

“I really don’t like doing this,” murmured her father, as he laced his fingers with his wife’s.

"We have exhausted all other options," her mother said with a sigh, shaking her head. "If there were anything else we could do or hadn’t tried, we would be doing it. But she is coming, and we don’t have much time.” It was a reiteration of what they had said before, but it seemed that they hoped the sheer act of repeating their plan and their reasons would erase the immense doubt that grew with each step.

Emma could see the worry in her mother and father’s faces. Since the news had reached them that their greatest foe was on the verge of overpowering the magic that protected Misthaven from her, the King and Queen had barely slept. While not everyone in castle knew the threat that was looming over them, everyone was aware of the bed that went unused for days at a time, the dark bags under Snow White’s and David’s eyes, and how both suddenly were unable to attend to the usual civil matters that normally occupied their attention.

The pace began to slow, and Emma turned to look at her mother, about to ask whether they were arriving.

Her mother spoke first. "Emma." Snow White gently rested her hand on her daughter's shoulder. With a reassuring smile that didn't dim the troubled shine in her eyes, she continued, "If you'd rather not be here, we would understand completely. This... this is hard. Ruling is hard and filled with difficult decisions that will cause you many, many sleepless nights. But, if you don't feel ready, if today isn't the day-"

Firmly, Emma shook her head. "I am doing this." The fear and doubts grabbed at her, begging her to stay behind as she advanced, but she persisted. One day, provided their plan worked, Emma would be Queen. The sooner she learned how to face enemies and foes like him, the better off the realm would be. Duty urged her forward, even though she felt like she had swallowed fire and her knees beginning to shake as she rounded the final bend.

She needed to be brave for what was about to come.

Catching sight of the prison cell, it was hard not to gasp. In the trembling light of the torches the guards held, the toothy bars seemed to move, as if the cage was alive. A great monster determined to keep an even greater one trapped inside its mouth.

"He can't harm you." David walked ahead, a guard by his side. "He is powerless here."

Despite the light, the cell remained in shadows, the firelight turning opaque in the heavy air. If the Dark One had no powers here, then how was the air so thick, protecting him from her gaze?

_Emma._

She stopped, heart jumping into her throat.

_Emma._

A cold sweat dampened the back of Emma's dress.

Her parents turned around, realizing their daughter was no longer following them. "Something wrong?" asked David.

They hadn't heard it, but Emma knew that she hadn't imagined it. She peered forward into the darkness of the cell, expecting to see the Dark One staring back at her. Nothing. But he was there. She knew he was, just as he knew she was approaching him. The urge to turn around and run made all of her muscles tense. This was a dangerous place to be, with a dangerous beast. Emma wished she was back above the ground, safe and doing anything else. Tickling a nesting dragon seemed so much less deadly than being here.

She swallowed, struggling to manage, "No." If she were to tell her parents just how terrified she was, there was no way they would not reconsider and send her away. She needed to be brave. She had to be. Quickly walking to make up the distance between herself and her parents, she insisted, "I'm fine."

The expressions on her parents' faces were hardly reassured ones, but they turned forward to face the cell.

Straightening herself up, Snow White took a deep breath. "Rumplestiltskin."

Emma's racing heart beat loudly in her ears as she looked past her parents into the gloom of the prison.

"Rumplestilskin."

Out of the darkness, long talon-like nails appeared, sharp and caked with years of grime. Greenish-gold hands wrapped around the projecting bars, pulling forward a leathery face. Olive skin sparkled in the torchlight under the dirt.

"Been a long time, dearies." The Dark One let out a high-pitched giggle that seemed to belong to someone else, and not the demon that had spoken in such a low, raspy growl seconds before. "Snow White and Prince Charming." The impish man tilted his head, fixing his eyes on Emma. "And Princess Emma."

The blood drained from Emma's face. The frantic desperation behind the eyes seemed more animal than human. And there was no doubting it: the voice she alone had heard was this man's. The way the Dark One lingered on her name was unmistakable. Emma took a step back, bumping into a guard who promptly and quietly apologized before stepping aside.

"And just what has brought you to my humble abode after..." he pressed his face between the bars, "nearly eighteen years? Hmmm? Must be the Queen."

"The Evil Queen," corrected Snow White with a frown.

"A queen nevertheless." The Dark One grinned, lips cracking in the process. He continued, slightly singing, "Banish the Queen to another realm... give the Queen another realm..." He stopped. "You can't be surprised she found new subjects?" He glanced from King to Queen with a smirk on his face. "She is destined to be queen. Throw her in a strange realm, and before long she has conquered them. One way or another."

"You saw this," said Snow White, taking a few steps forward. Her eyes flashed accusingly.

The Dark One let out a laugh. "But of course. Though even if I didn't have the Sight, it's not too hard to guess. You asked the Blue Fairy for help. You couldn't have believed that she would offer you a real solution. That's not what fairies do."

"She's missing," said David. "No one has heard from her. We think the Evil Queen might have taken her."

With a shrug, the Dark One said, "It’s a possibility. I taught her well. And if she has taken that pesky fairy, you should assume she's taken her heart." The smile on the prisoner's face was undeniably proud. "Which really does put you in quite the bind. And I take it none of the other fairies are able to help." He let his head tilt to one side, taking their silence as an answer. “And that can only mean one thing.” He clapped his hands once and pointed to Snow White, “You want a deal!” He grinned. “In exchange for me helping you, you will offer me…”

“Your freedom,” said Snow White.

A sincere flash of surprise spread across the Dark One’s face, a wave that quickly passed. “Oh, you must be scared for you to offer that after all the trouble you went through to get me here,” he said. “Tell me, what does she want? Your lives?” He gestured at Emma. “Her heart?”

“Worse.” Snow White’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “She says she will kill everyone born after she was banished. Every child in this realm and far beyond.”

Even though she had heard the threat before, Emma still shuddered at the mention of it.

The Dark One stepped back from the bars. The shadows began to cloud his features. “That… that certainly is quite the threat.” He spoke in the same whisper Snow White did. “She never was afraid to leave a pile of bodies in her wake, and children… well… Do you know just how many children died to get that apple she poisoned you with?”

Snow White shook her head. “I don’t want to know.”

“We want to stop any more children from dying,” said David.

“Of course you do.” The Dark One’s voice was almost a laugh, though the gravity of the situation seemed to weigh down the monster’s mirth. “You’re heroes. That’s what you do. Save the day. But you need my help.”

“We need all the help we can get,” Snow White said. “So we are willing to make this deal with you to stop the Evil Queen from returning and terrorizing our people.” She glanced over her shoulder and motioned Emma to come forward.

Forcing down her fear, Emma held her head high with all the decorum her mother had taught her and walked forward to the bars of the prison. From her reticule, she drew out a roll of parchment and unfurled it, holding it up.

The Dark One approached slowly, peering through the bars at the contract.

“You,” started Emma, her voice cracking, “you’re to help us find a way to defeat Regina, the Evil Queen. In exchange, we will free you from your prison.”

“I can see that,” the Dark One said, his golden flecked eyes flicking up to once again meet hers.

Her heart thudded loudly in her ears. “Sign it, and we will free you.”

“Am I to sign with blood?” he quipped, a smirk curling his lips.

“With this,” said David, holding out a quill already dipped in ink.

“Squid ink again, Charming?” The Dark One clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “That’s not about to work on me again.”

“That’s not squid ink.” With a smile, Snow White revealed a bottle she had been hiding in the folds of her dress. “But this is.”

The Dark One reached his hand out through the bars, considering. His eyes flitted from King to Queen before settling again on Emma. “Very well,” he said. He took the quill-pen from David’s hand. With a smooth flourish, he wrote, _Rumplestiltskin_. “Now your end of the bargain, Dearies.”

Snow White met her husband’s gaze for a moment, her face set in a deep frown. “Your freedom.” She uncorked the bottle. “Step back.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Two quick steps back distanced him from the bars of his cell.

Snow tossed the black contents of the bottle at the stalactite-like bars. As the ink made contact with the stone, it began to shimmer blue before consuming gate.

With a gleeful giggle, the Dark One hurried out of his prison cell, causing the entire company - royals and guards alike - to go back a pace. “My, my,” he said. “The air already feels fresher.”

Not amused or interested in delay, David said, “We’ll go up to the castle and start plan--”

The Dark One held up a finger. “But I didn’t agree to do anything for you right away. If you had wanted that, you should have put it in the contract.” As he laughed, a cloud of blood red smoke swirled around him, swallowing him up.

Emma stared dumbfounded as the smoke cleared to show that the Dark One was gone.

 

***

The time it took for Killian to feel steady on dry land he had come to realize wasn’t truly measured in time. The uneasy rocking under his feet could last an hour, a day. Gently, the pitch and fall of the earth persisted, making him unsteady as he navigated cobbled streets and dirt paths. It didn’t cease until, finally, he could see the masts of the tall ships in the harbor. The sight never failed to restore him and quicken his pace. After an afternoon inside the walls of the manor house, Killian was eager to feel the planks of the ship underneath him again.

Reaching the docks, Killian stopped before boarding, pulling down on his blue jacket and adjusting the way his bicorne sat. Though the sailors had been given their liberty until sunrise tomorrow morning, Killian had long ago made it a habit to make sure he was always in his best form, even when no one was watching.

Killian strode up the gangway, looking fore and aft about the deck of the Jewel of the Realm. Just as he had expected, not a sailor was in sight. The only living souls he could see as he jumped from gangway to the deck were the ambered eyed ship’s cat and the chickens she was currently watching, tail flicking back and forth. Killian could only hope that the cages would hold out against the cat’s attempts. With a sigh, Killian went to the aid of the chickens he had bought just that morning, sending the cat scurrying away with a few claps. It was a losing battle, he knew, but one he still felt obligated to attempt.

“Lieutenant.”

Quickly, Killian spun round to see a man’s bald head and torso climbing out from the hold. “Sailor.” Though he had known Silas for over a year now, there were still certain respects and formalities that Killian believed were due to the men under his command. After over a decade of service in the navy, the boatswain had long ago proven himself especially worthy of respect.

“The Captain instructed me that he wants to talk to you as soon as you’re back,” said Silas, halfway emerged.

Before Silas was able to continue, Killian was already heading towards his brother’s cabin.

The steps were barely more than a ladder down into the hull, but Killian quickly descended without any conscious effort. In the years since Liam had taken up captainship, Killian had climbed the steps enough times to be able to do it in the dark, though he preferred to avoid it. Few good things came from stumbling about in the dark.

Reaching the last few steps, Killian could see Liam with his back turned, studying something by the window. "Captain?"

Liam turned around, his serious expression quickly becoming a welcoming smile. "Killian, I'm glad you're back. I trust things went smoothly."

"Fortunately there was no trouble." Still standing on the bottom step, "Silas told me you wanted to see me," said Killian. He set one foot down on the deck.

With a nod Liam said, "I got a bird from the Queen." The captain walked over to the table and picked a piece of parchment up that Killian hadn't noticed before.

Curiosity made Killian approach, reaching out to take the missive. "Really?" This was hardly the first correspondence Killian knew his brother had had from the royal family, but those instructions were few and far between. And never had they been sent by bird. They had never been tasked with something that required the urgent swiftness only one of the Queen’s birds could provide.

Before Killian could do more than notice the seal of the King and Queen, Liam began to speak.

"They want us to return to Misthaven."

Killian frowned. Their mission wasn't even halfway done.

"They are asking for the whole fleet to come back," he continued, with a sigh. Liam wore a troubled expression that Killian hadn’t seen on his brother’s face for some time now. “I think they fear war is coming. At least, an attack is imminent.”

A country that had been at peace for almost twenty years was now preparing for war. Dread clenched Killian’s stomach as he recalled his servitude in a country at war. Those memories belonged to another lifetime very different than the one the lieutenant lived now serving the King and Queen of Misthaven, or at least Killian hoped that they would remain two very different and distinct lives, with the concerns and woes of war not bleeding into the present. He and Liam had escaped that land of fear, rationing, and broken men. The possibility that his new homeland would be gripped by those troubles and concerns was positively terrifying.

“Against who?” breathed Killian. “I thought all the kingdoms and queendoms of Misthaven were in concord.” Not like where he and Liam had come from where it was acceptable for children to become slaves to be bought and sold. “And the treaties with all the neighboring realms and lands are supposed to be strong.” Nothing he had heard had ever given him reason to doubt this fact. Not even the faraway war of the Jones’s native land impacted the dealing of Snow White’s Queendom; years ago she had made agreements that prevented that war from touching her country.

Glumly, Liam shrugged, “I cannot say. But if the Queen is worried, we all should be.”

Never one to deny his brother’s judgement, Killian nodded in agreement. “Then we must prepare to sail,” concluded Killian. He glanced out in the direction of the docks, though all he could see was his pale reflection in the mirror above Liam’s berth. “Shall I try to track our men down? I can go to the taverns and--”

Liam held up a hand and said firmly, “No need, Lieutenant.” He walked over to Killian offering a small, barely reassuring smile. “The men will return tomorrow by dawn. They are all probably drunk by now, barely able to work, and I know that is something you won’t tolerate aboard the Jewel. Even if you were to find them all within the hour, they wouldn’t be sober until nightfall.”

“If then,” murmured Killian. He knew far too well just how long it could take for the effects of certain drinks to wear off, especially when quite a lot had been drunk in a short period of time, as he knew sailors in port were wont to do. As he too had once done.

“And this is not the harbor to navigate at night,” continued Liam. “Let us give them until dawn, as we originally said. It is only fair. Let them enjoy their night. You stay here.” He returned to what he had been studying before. “Besides-” he picked up the atlas and brought it over to the table where Killian could better see it, “- I need the help of my best navigator to help me chart the swiftest course.”

Despite his worries, Killian managed a small grin at his brother’s compliment. Joining his brother at the table, Killian said, “As you wish, Captain.”

 

***

After several hours of poring over atlases and charts, Killian couldn’t deny that his eyes were itching for a break. But, there were so few times that the ship was ever truly quiet that Killian didn’t want to let this moment pass him by, especially not with the possibility that there would be no more nights like this once they returned to Misthaven. Killian had to make the most of this opportunity, even if he was exhausted, and he had to squint in the flickering light of the oil lamp while sitting at the chest and shelves that served as a makeshift desk beside the empty bunks. At least the calm waters of the harbor made the lamp barely sway, for that he could be thankful.

Peering down at the musty pages of the book he had found in a shop a dozen ports ago, Killian tried to detangle the letters he had first encountered while learning mathematics.Though it was theoretically a primer, it presented sections from an ancient epic from a long gone world, passages that were frustratingly complex with not enough of the words glossed or the grammar satisfactorily explained. The cryptic marginalia of generations of learners past helped some, but barely. After months of looking for a primer in the language of the gods, Killian knew that he shouldn’t complain, but still, he planned to continue looking for a better one in every port they landed in. That of course required him ever having leave to explore a port on his own again. War would change all of that.

Killian didn’t turn around when footsteps thudded down the stairs, instead, he leaned forward over the book. It wasn’t until a shadow fell over his page did he look up to the young blonde man standing in between him and his light. Or rather, he was closer to swaying. Killian frowned. There was no mistaking the familiar scent of a tavern on the Ensign’s breath.

Ignoring his lieutenant’s obvious disapproval, the junior officer leaned forward, looking past Killian towards the book he had been studying. “What have you got there, Lieutenant?” he asked with a grin.

There would be no more studying tonight. Killian could see that. “Really none of your concern, Rolfe.” He got to his feet and sidestepped the other man to get to his own bunk. He tucked the book safely under his mattress.

“Don’t know why y’spend so much time with the books,” said Rolfe, sitting down where Killian had been a moment before. “Didn’t you get enough of that stuff at the Academy?”

“Can’t ever be done learning,” said Killian lightly, allowing the other officer to maintain his mistaken impression that he and Liam were duty-bound to encourage. It was easier, in a way, to allow everyone to believe that he and Liam had been trained and commissioned in the navy of their former kingdom, but had defected after their ship was wrecked. It required little explanation and prevented questions, not like the truth would. Revealing that he and Liam had been promoted for services rendered to the crown, as that would prompt inquires into what that service was, something that the crown couldn’t afford.

“You’re an odd one, Jones.”

“ _Lieutenant_ Jones,” corrected Killian. Though by birth and education, the taller officer was several classes above him, Killian couldn’t let Rolfe forget that here he outranked him. He couldn’t let any of the men forget, not if there was to be order. In the days and months to come - Killian hoped it didn’t come to years, but feared it might - order was what they all would need.

In complete breach of decorum, Rolfe laughed, “You know that attitude is exactly why the mates call you Lieutenant Killjoy.”

Killian stiffened, his fist clenching onto his blanket. “Your out of line, Officer,” he said through gritted teeth. “This sort of behavior is exactly why I don’t allow--”

“Didn’t bring any back,” interrupted Rolfe. “I’m not like the mates. I’m not stupid.”

Turning around to face Rolfe, Killian said, “They’re not stupid either.” Some simply underestimated just how serious he was about making sure his men stayed in line and behaved appropriately while on duty. A day or two off in port was enough to make them forget or hope that their lieutenant had changed his mind in the meantime.

“Go to The Masked Lady and then tell me that again,” joked Rolfe.

The lieutenant held no delusions as to what sort of behavior the sailors were up to in the taverns around the docks. But, he knew what they were capable of when completely sober, even if Rolfe chose to ignore it. “You’re not going to win any respect talking like that, especially when you’re not doing anything particularly different than them,” said Killian cooly.

The blush around the officer’s face deepened with anger. “Hardly fair, Jones.” Rolfe’s voice bristled with offense as he spoke. “You don’t see me spending my pay on some poxy dock whore.” He got to his feet and quickly closed the distance between them, so he could tower over Killian. “Take it back.” To keep his balance, Rolfe leaned forward, hand outstretched to support himself on the top bunk.

Killian’s bunk.

Once again, Killian could smell the drink on Rolfe’s hot breath. He could see the burning in Rolfe’s dark eyes. The other man seemed drunk enough to do something reckless. Killian wanted none of that. That had been the point of staying on the Jewel tonight.

Turning to the side not blocked by Rolfe’s hand, Killian said, “You’re too drunk, Officer. You really should have waited before coming back to the ship.” Killian walked swiftly to the door, not daring himself to look back at the Ensign until he had opened the door to the ladder. “I believe it would be best if we both forgot you came back here tonight.”

The other man had followed the lieutenant’s progress with his gaze, hand still resting on Killian’s bunk. He spoke not a word, but merely scowled at his coeval.

As Killian climbed up the ladder to the weatherdeck, he let the cool night air wash away the lingering annoyance from Rolfe’s interruption. Up on deck, Killian walked over towards the hatch above his brother’s cabin. Darkness. Killian paused. He hadn’t thought that it had been that late. “Liam,” he said, soft enough so he wouldn’t wake his brother if he were sleeping. The waves and the creaking of the ship were the only answer he got. Killian sighed and looked up at the familiar constellations in the summer sky. He doubted that he would have to wait very long until Rolfe succumbed to the somnolence of the alcohol. Until then, however, Killian had the stars.

 

***

“We should have never trusted him,” said David, pacing the length of formerly defunct war room. “I knew it was a terrible idea to go to him.”

The air of defeat had hung heavy about the three royals for hours. All during the climb upwards from the prison deep under the castle, silence had reigned. Neither guard, nor king, nor queen, nor crown princess was able to speak. Emma had watched her parents’ faces, seeing their faces turn from anger to worry, and then back to the heavy, grim-set lines of anger in her father’s case.

“You and I both know that there’s always this risk when it comes to the Dark One,” said said Snow White, looking up from one of the dozens of books the librarian had found for them that could possibly help them. They all knew there was only a dim hope that the faded pages of books about magic and history could be of aid to them now, but it was what Emma’s mother had chosen to cling to since emerging from the dungeons. “He always has his own agenda, his own plans.”

“Why did we even think that he would care?” The king didn’t seem to be listening to his wife. “He takes children. Why would he want to help us save them?”

“We had hoped he had changed,” answered Snow White.

“And indeed I have.”

The voice sent a shiver through Emma’s body. All three royals turned around, to see the Dark One leaning against a pillar, smirking at the distressed scene. No longer dressed in the rags that bore nearly two decades worth of grime, the Dark One wore a high collared jacket, fashioned from some kind of reptile’s skin.

The sound of her father drawing his sword drew her attention away from the Dark One. Her mouth went dry. She had only ever seen her father draw his sword for ceremonial purposes, never out of fear.

“All those years below the ground… well, that changes a man.”

“Why did you leave?”

All eyes in the war room turned to Emma.

The damage had already been done, Emma realized too late. A sick sensation crept over her, but she couldn’t hold back. Her fear was strong, her fury was stronger. She continued, trying not to let her voice waiver, “What could possibly be more important than stopping her?”

Instead of anger, amusement flashed across the Dark One’s face. “She’s got your tact, Charming,” he said.

“Why?” persisted Emma.

Unperturbed by the young woman’s rage, the Dark One strolled from the pillar towards her. “I had some rather important business I had to attend to,” he said calmly. “Business I have been waiting to finish longer than you have been alive, Princess.”

Emma could see her father and mother in the corner of her eye. Her mother had risen to her feet, her face pale and drawn. Her father was striding towards them, sword still out.

“So you went out and did errands while the lives of over a thousand children hangs in the balance,” hissed Emma. “What kind of a monster does that?”

The Dark One reached Emma before her father did. “The kind that needs to find a way to defeat the Queen.” Without even looking, the Dark One waved his hand. The clank and clatter of her father’s sword flying out of his hand echoed in the large room.

Emma didn’t flinch. Instead, she stared straight at the Dark One.

“So you’ve found a way,” said Snow White. She walked to join her husband, who stood behind Emma now.

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” He smirked proudly. “But it’s going to cost you.”

“You agreed to help us,” said Snow White desperately. “It’s there. In the contract. Emma show--”

“The deal was for me to find a way to defeat the Queen,” interrupted the Dark One. “I have. Our both ends of the deal have been upheld.”

Emma had never seen eyes shine as brightly as the Dark One’s.

“You can’t do this,” stammered Snow White.

“But I am.”

“But the children are--,” protested David.

“What’s the price?” Emma’s voice cut through the quarrelling, causing all the fall silent.

Beaming, the Dark One said, “Glad you asked, dearie, as it’s you who will pay the price.”

“That’s hardly fair,” said Snow White. “Don’t bring her into this.”

“But you brought her into this when you brought her to me.” With a shrug of his leather-clad shoulders, he continued, “Besides, it’s her life on the line, not yours. Isn’t that right?” He took a step closer to Emma. “You were born after the Evil Queen was banished to her new realm. You are the one who will die.”

Reluctantly, Emma nodded.

“Therefore, it’s only fair that you make the deal and you pay the price. I’m doing you a favor by saving your life.”

Emma knew she was trapped. “And what do you want from me? My first born?”

A giggle escaped the Dark One’s cracked lips. “No… that is all in the past for me. No, in exchange for my knowledge and aid so you can defeat the Evil Queen and save the lives of all the children in this realm and the next, and wherever else she has threatened, I want your hand in marriage to my first born.”

Silence returned to reign once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! Thank you for making it to the end of this chapter! This chapter has been in the works for a little bit, so it has become somewhat of a labor of love that has involved research, asking a bunch of questions to the guys in my life who know about the navy, and rewatching "Good Form" and "The Brothers Jones" a lot. It has been quite the journey! I hope you continue it with me. There is quite a lot in store for you.  
> Thank you,  
> Morgan


End file.
